


Close Your Eyes

by OlicityIBelieve



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Missing Scene, Olicity Sex, Post 4x11, Post Injury Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 12:26:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5869441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OlicityIBelieve/pseuds/OlicityIBelieve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 4x11 taking place straight after the bedroom scene.<br/>What if the scene lasted a little bit longer, allowing us to witness Oliver and Felicity reconnecting on one more level.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Close Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn’t have written this fic without @dust2dust34. She was the first one to encourage me to get it out of my system and she was nothing but patience and wonderful advice when it came to writing this. I will never be able to thank you enough!

_“That is the world we live in now. And I will not stop searching it until we find a way to make you walk again.”_

Felicity nods softly, her heart beating in her chest in front of the sincerity of his words. She tilts her head to the side, a smile on her lips. She raises a hand in front of her face and flexing her index, invites him to come to her. He obliges in a huff of laughter, crawling slowly on top of her, careful to keep an unreasonable distance between them, teasing her.

“Come here,” she laughs before grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him to her in a soft kiss. Hovering on top of her, the box still between them, he lets her take control of his lips, play with the hair at the back of his neck. Since her injury her kisses have been softer, almost shy but he can taste the difference of her lips at this very moment. She captures his bottom lip between hers and he can’t help but let a groan out. Shifting all his weight on one arm, he buries his free hand on her hair, tilting her head to the side to deepen the kiss. Following his unspoken instruction, she opens her mouth in an obvious invitation. It’s now her turn to whimper against his mouth, the contact of his tongue against her triggering in her sensations she thought forgotten. As their lips remain sealed to each other, her right hand slides to his chest, caressing his pec through the soft fabric of his green hoodie. She feels his heart beating against her palm, reveling at the life that surrounds them at this very moment.

A hand still in her hair, he pulls a few inches away from her, mesmerized by the flush of her face and the pink of her lips. He strikes his thumb against her cheek and earns a beautiful smile in return. Felicity looks peaceful and happy and for a few seconds, he forgets the chaos of the past few weeks.

“I love you,” he whispers, afraid of breaking the perfection of this moment.

“I love you too,” she answers in a chuckle, the happiness radiating on her face.

Convinced it is about time for them to stop living in denial, Oliver pulls away from her, a smile on his face, grabbing the box and the garbage can. He stands up and places the objects away from the bed. He turns back to her and starts unzipping his hoodie.

“Time to get comfortable,” he announces with humor, earning a loud laugh from Felicity. He lets the hoodie fall on the floor. He doesn’t miss the look on Felicity’s face as her eyes follow the lines of his arms, up to his shoulders, then his chest. She licks her lips expectantly in an unconscious gesture and he knows she is as ready as he is.

Pushing on her arms, she slides down in the bed in a more comfortable position, her head nestled in the softness of the pillow. She extends a hand to him and instinctively, Oliver intertwines his fingers with hers before sliding by her side. Propped on his elbow, he faces her, his chest, stomach and legs touching the side of her body. He represses the urge to kiss her senselessly and instead, he keeps his hand in hers and only his eyes trace her body. Their eyes lock. Their breathing syncs in a peaceful way, both appreciating the contact and presence of their loved one. Felicity’s hand reaches for his face again, tracing his jawline with one finger first then with her palm. He leans into it, the only contact of her hand against his face a delight for his senses. Both of them can’t hold back anymore and in the same movement, their lips find each other. Just like a few minutes before, the intensity surprises them, catches them off guard. They moan in unison, the force of their desire for each other hitting them unexpectedly. They don’t know if the kiss lasts five seconds or five hours. They lose themselves in each other, their connection intact after the ordeal of the past few weeks.

Oliver lets go of Felicity’s hand, a hand that ends up automatically on his neck as he starts exploring her body. His index caresses her cheek, down to her neck. He can feel her goosebumps under his finger and he smiles. His lips take over his finger on her neck, his tongue lavishing the tender spot he knows she can’t resist to, his fingers brushing her breast over the material of her top. His thumb caresses her nipple in a circular motion. Felicity arches against him, pleasure escaping from her lips, giving him more access to her neck. Oliver doesn’t miss the opportunity to devour the skin there as he increases the pressure on her breast.

Her reaction to his ministrations is stronger than usual, her upper body much more reactive than what it used to be.

Confident in her response, Oliver’s hand abandons her chest to slide underneath her pink top. As soon as his hand touches the soft skin of her stomach, Felicity lets out a groan and in a hurried motion brings his lips back to her in an urgent kiss. Oliver moves slightly over her, his weight still on his arm in a cautious effort not to crush her, much to Felicity’s frustration.

She pleads his name against his mouth and he instantly knows what she needs. More contact. More skin. More him. More them. He breaks the contact with her for a second only, getting rid of his shirt, quickly discarding it on the floor. Coming back to her, he helps her remove her top. Left in her bra, she shivers under his gaze. He can’t help but lick his lips in front of her exposed body. He has seen her naked multiple times after her injury but never has she been so exposed, open and ready for him. The scars that now adorn her abdomen are another reason for him to cherish her body as much as her soul. His gaze is nothing but love and in a second, he is back to her, answering the invitation of her open arms. He envelops her with his body, his arms wrapped against her back, his chest pressed against hers.

“Yes…” she murmurs against his ear, wrapping her lips on his lobe, sucking lightly, her nails scratching against his shoulder blades. He groans, unable to control the flash of desire that takes over him. He knows that it will take time and patience but the intensity of his desire for her remains intact, the technicality of her injury a detail in the realization of their passion.

Oliver goes on kissing every single inch of skin available under his tongue, memorizing the new sensitivity that is Felicity’s, trying to identify in the intensity of her moans the spots driving her desire higher. He feels himself hardening against her and for a second he thanks his initiative to wear sweatpants, his erection visible but comfortable.  

Both of them are lost in desire, their breathing heavy, the movement of their hands erratic, uncontrolled. They cannot get enough of each other, not now that they are finally reconnecting with each other.

As Oliver’s mouth kisses the swell of her breast, still captured in her black bra, one of his hands moves on its own, sliding slowly underneath her sweatpants. Felicity’s hand snaps around his wrist, stopping him brutally in his motion.

“Oliver…” she chokes, her body tense in apprehension. His eyes are immediately on hers, looking for any trace of discomfort. He pulls away from her, triggering a wave of tears in her eyes.

Bracketing his hands around her face, he looks at her in the eye, reaching for her soul through the wall of tears that threatens to ravage her face.

“Felicity, talk to me, baby,” he whispers, careful not to push her. She takes a deep breath that breaks into a small sob.

“Hey, hey, I’m here Felicity… it’s only me…” he reassures her, his hand sliding along her arm in a comforting gesture.

Felicity avoids his look and traces light patterns on his chest, giving herself a second to find her words.

“Oliver… I’m… I’m not even sure… I don’t know if… if I can…” She hesitates, unable to look at him as doubt creeps into her, pushing her back into the dark place she despises so much.

Oliver lifts her chin, forcing her to make eye contact with him. The love, patience and lust she sees in his eyes instantly relax her. She has only to look into the blue of his eyes to understand that he will be by her side no matter the difficulties.

“Felicity, if you’re not ready to…”

“No!” She cuts him abruptly, reaching for his cheek. “I am! I mean… I want to… I’m just not sure I can.”

“Hey.” He smiles. “There’s only one way to be sure…. okay? One step at a time. You and me.”

His words immediately make her feel safer and she chuckles at her own reaction. There’s no one else in the world she trusts more than Oliver. He has proven to her so many times the generous lover he is. She knows she has nothing to fear, nothing to be apprehensive about. The love between them can be expressed in so many different manners. She knows sex is only a small part of it, especially after everything they’ve been through. But she wants to do this, she wants to give him as much as he gives her, she wants to feel his body against hers again, taste the saltiness of his skin when words are not enough anymore.

“Where do we start?” she asks in a shy smile. He chuckles at her question, his mouth peppering kisses all over her neck and her breast. He breaks away from her once more, standing next to the bed, removing the blanket that still covers her legs. A mischievous smile on his face, he wraps his arms around her and lifts her off the bed.

“Pull the cover off,” he asks her. He bends over and still in his arms, she helps him push the cover to the bottom of the bed. He lays her back down and sits at her feet.

“This is where we begin,” he explains.

Felicity raises an eyebrow at him, confused. He smiles at her reaction and moves towards her feet to remove her socks. He takes her naked feet in his hands, massaging them, still surprised by how cold they now are. She gives him a small and sad smile, the warmth of his hands not reaching her. Not discouraged, Oliver moves over her, his face now at her stomach level. With both hands, he grabs the waistband of her sweatpants as well as her panties. He lifts his head to look at her, questioning her with a simple look. Felicity takes a deep breath and nods firmly. She can almost feel Oliver’s hand on her hips but as he pulls the material off her legs, she loses the sensation of him, like a boat lost in a wild sea. She knows it’s there somewhere, but she’s not sure she can ever find it again.

She’s almost naked under him, left with only her bra on. Weirdly enough, she feels more comfortable than expected. She feels… normal. She feels sexy and she feels like herself. The lust in his eyes and the way he licks his lips have a lot to do with this amazing feeling taking over her, the feeling to be loved and desirable despite everything.

He hovers once more on top of her and kissing the top of their breast, the right side, then the left side, he adds, “Let’s get rid of this too,” in a voice that hides very little of the desire that runs in his veins. He stops a few moments to kiss her with the conviction of a man incredibly in love with his partner in life.

Desire floods Felicity, marveling at the reaction of her body against his. He finally takes her bra off before covering her with the bed cover. As he begins to move to slide under the cover, Felicity shakes her head and raises an eyebrow.

“You forgot something,” she laughs, her hands waving at his half clothed self.

He chuckles and shakes his head a little, amused. Two dimples appear on his face as he removes his remaining clothes one by one and Felicity feels the warmth spreading through her body. In the gloriousness of his naked frame, he cannot hide the desire he feels for his fiancée, boosting Felicity’s confidence.

As soon as he opens the cover to slide in the bed, Felicity’s arms wrap around his neck and he melts into her embrace. Her lips are burning and her tongue is already demanding against his. The doubt she was experiencing a few minutes ago is now forgotten for an insatiable desire that burns inher, destroying all her restraints. She moans and arches against Oliver, seeking more contact, more pressure, more sensation. She pants against his neck, the weight of his body against her enough to make her lose control. Her hands urge him to press against her. They slide down until she grips the roundness of his ass, pressing it down to seek more friction against her center. She lets a frustrated noise out when the sensation gets to her muffled, distant, almost unreachable.  

Sensing her frustration, Oliver moves his mouth from her lips to her right nipple. Without warning he sucks on it, rolling his tongue against it until he feels it hardened in his mouth. Felicity cries of pleasure, the intensity of her new sensitivity catching her by surprise. He hears her moaning his name between two pants and he knows her frustration is now forgotten. He keeps sucking, licking her nipple until her nails are scratching his skull. He bites her nipple very softly, the sensation of his teeth on the sensitive spot enough to make her see stars. He abandons her nipple in a soft pop as he switches to the left one. Before the accident, it has always been her most sensitive one. If her hand flying into the bedspread, searching for something to hold onto is any indication of her pleasure, he would say her left side is still very much her - and his - favorite. As his tongue continues to play with one breast, his hand is playing with the other perky mound, Oliver loses himself in the pleasure that spills out of Felicity’s mouth. He can’t help but look up at her. Her eyes are shut and she shakes her head from side to side, enable to contain the immense pleasure that she finally gets to experience. The vision of her totally drawn in delight makes him grow harder.

Focused on his task, Oliver doesn’t notice Felicity’s hand sliding back under the cover, reaching for his cock. She finds him hard and throbbing, painfully waiting for her. As soon as her fingers close against him, Oliver lets a choked sound. He gives up her nipples for a second, his forehead pressed against her breasts, unable to process anything but the feeling of her palm against his cock. Her skin is so soft against his. He loses consciousness of time and space for a moment when she starts running her hand up and down his length.

“God, Felicity,” he whimpers against her chest as she runs her thumb over the wet tip of his cock, his hips jerking into her hand at the feeling. She smiles before capturing his lips once more, the kiss growing in intensity as she increases the pressure against him. She’s missed feeling him totally at her mercy, all his desire literally in the palm of her hand. She recognizes the intensity of his need when his hips start moving frantically. She knows she’s playing with fire. They haven’t had sex for way too many weeks and if her own desire, as changed as it is, is already off charts, she knows that Oliver is struggling to remain in control of his body. She releases the pressure on his cock, sliding her hand lower, softly caressing his balls. His eyes snap to hers and he shakes his head, half frustrated, half amused.

“Felicity,” he growls, threatening. She laughs in answer, the sound soon cut off by his mouth on hers. He grabs her wrist delicately and pushes it away from his length. Slowly, he grabs her thigh and opens her wider to him. Felicity’s eyes are on him. He can still see a hint of apprehension in the sea of desire that her eyes are.

She nods softly. The rhythm slows down. Oliver’s forehead moves to hers as their eyes lock. He hovers over her, his weight on one forearm next to her face while his other hand moves towards her center.

“Relax, Felicity,” he whispers against her mouth, the tension in her body undeniable. His hand travels across her inner thigh, his eyes on her, reading her reaction. As her face remains still, he increases the pressure, looking for a sensation. She shakes her head, a sad smile on her lips, as she struggles to feel his hand on her. He smiles back at her, pecking her lips. His hand moves up, targeting the source of her pleasure. He finds her wet for him and he starts stroking her clit softly.

The pleasure reaches her through thick doors, like muffled by her injury but this time she _does_ feel him against her. She experiences a soft pleasure, not burning as she was used to but slowly consuming. She can’t feel his exact motion but she feels the warmth of his love against her center.

She creases her eyebrows and he immediately stops.

“No, don’t!” she almost pleads. “Don’t stop, Oliver, don’t stop… I need more… Please…”

She pants against his lips. He obliges and adds more pressure against her clit. She lets a loud moan out when he presses hard on her. The pleasure is building in her as his mouth goes back to her left nipple, his eyes never leaving her face.

It’s not enough and it won’t be enough. She knows it. It won’t be enough but at the same time, it is so much more than anything she has expected, so she enjoys every second of it. Every sensation Oliver gives her, every touch he masters, every hint of pleasure he offers, every caress he lets her enjoy, every second he shares with her… she takes it all and she gives back as much as she can. Her pleasure is not in her release but in the act of loving itself.

She keeps panting against him, the connection with Oliver stronger than her sexual arousal.

“I need you, Oliver, please,” she whispers. She sees desire, love and emotion in his eyes. He shifts slightly against her, evening his weight on top of her, opening her wider for him, never looking away. He leans and kisses her with all the love he can put in a kiss, with the love of a man who almost lost his soulmate, the love of a man who is ever so grateful for having her back, a man who cannot be more proud of the woman in his arms.

Pulling back only slightly, he takes her hand, guiding her to his length. Understanding his demand, she grabs him, stroking him softly before guiding him into her.

As the tip of his cock touches her entrance, Oliver cannot repress the need of telling her one more time these three words he was so afraid not to say ever again.

“I love you, Felicity.”

“I love you too,” she echoes, pecking his lips quickly before guiding him in.

He slides slowly in, both of them lost in the intensity of the moment. Oliver focuses on Felicity, careful not to hurt her, not to push her any further than what she wants to. Felicity remains focused on Oliver’s face, fascinated by the myriad of emotions flying across his face, her desire directly linked with his. If the sensation of him buried in her to the hilt hardly reaches her, the pleasure she gets from the connection of their two souls through their bodies leaves her speechless. She feels Oliver forcing himself not to move, letting her adjust to him, letting himself adjust back to the overwhelming and beautiful sensation of her walls surrounding him. One of her hands slide against his ass and pushes him against her, urging him to move.

“Felicity… Fuck…” he groans as he starts rocking against her, his movements long and slow, determined to share his desire with her. Meticulous in his strokes, he hits her clit over and over, emphasizing the pressure on her body every time he is buried deep in her.

Felicity keeps her eyes on him, fighting the urge to close them in front of the pleasure she experiences because of him. His mouth doesn’t leave her neck, her jaw, her ears as he moves against her. He slides his hand under her knee, bringing one leg closer to his hip, the sensation of her lean legs against him increasing his desire. His rhythm is mercilessly slow but he knows that speeding up would mean finishing way too early, limiting Felicity’s experience. As the pressure on her core keeps growing, the intensity of her moans remain the same, her body reaching her limit in the physical expression of their love.

“Oliver…” she whimpers against his shoulder. Once more, the apprehension and frustration can be read in her eyes as he keeps his own desire at bay.

“Close your eyes, baby, close your eyes for me and follow my voice,” he murmurs against her lips.

After a deep breath, she follows his lead, her trust in him stronger than ever.

“Close your eyes and try to remember the feeling of me moving in you,” he whispers, his voice lowered by his desire. She shivers under the intensity of his words. Out of instinct, she grips his shoulders, anchoring herself in him, in the strength of his muscles, in the passion of his words.

“Focus on how it feels when I enter you, in… out… in… out…. slowly… “

His movements follow his words and if Oliver’s not sure whether or not Felicity can experience the physical pleasure of his length in her, he senses her giving into the pleasure and desire.

“That’s it, baby… Just you and me… slowly… until you beg me to speed up,” he adds jokingly, making her laugh and open her eyes.

“No, no, no… keep your eyes shut,” he encourages her, his teeth softly biting the flesh of her shoulders.

Felicity sighs loudly, the pleasure relaxing her body but the tension in his shoulders still intact.

“More, Oliver… more,” she urges him, her nails digging into his shoulders.

He answers her by speeding up, his hands sliding underneath her butt, lifting her hips to accentuate the friction.

Responsive to the additional sensation and to his words, Felicity loses herself in a space where only Oliver and her live, a space where his words are his hands, where his tone is the penetrating force inside of her, where his mind is the delectable pleasure running through her.

“Feel my hands on your ass, Felicity… squeezing it… never letting go… God…” he chokes as she lets a loud moan out, her pleasure overwhelming his own, testing the resistance of his desire. He feels the base of his spine tickling, the clear sign of his impending release.

“Feel me moving in you, Felicity, faster… harder… just like you love it…”

He keeps rocking against her for a few minutes, marveled by the familiarity of his desire growing dangerously, by the normality of the moment.

“Oliver… yes…”

As he reads the ecstasy on her face, her mind long gone in a place of love and passion, he slowly moves up, his arms still wrapped around her, lifting her with him, still deeply buried in her.

“Hold onto me tight…” he murmurs against her ear. He sits up, his legs in front of him, slightly bent, his heels anchored in the mattress, careful to keep her close to him, crossing her legs behind him as she now sits on top of him, the contact between them never broken.

She opens her eyes, their faces so close to each other. She drowns in the azure of his eyes, a beautiful smile on her face. She grabs his face and passionately kisses him, pouring into it the intense desire he has created in her. Without breaking the kiss, he grips her hips and slowly lifts her up. And down. Up.  And down.

WIth a cry of pleasure, she abandons his lips to bury her face in his neck. The angle allows him to get deep inside of her, hitting that very special spot inside her. Her body doesn’t react the same way, but the intensity of the penetration drags loud moans out of her. The skin of her chest burns of passion against his and never has the contact with Oliver felt more powerful, more intense.

Felicity feels Oliver speeding up, his release imminent. She recognizes the grip of his hands on her hips, the tension in his neck, the heaviness of his breathing. He keeps moving underneath her, both lifting her and thrusting back up into her wetness. His rhythm soon becomes hectic and she knows he is drawing out this beautiful moment between them as much as he can.

Felicity lifts her face, facing Oliver, leaning her forehead against his.

“Come for me, Oliver, please… Please, Oliver, come for me,” she pants against his mouth, freeing him from his own desire, allowing him to spill into her in a few hectic trusts, her name on his lips. She imagines more than she feels him twitch in her, his warm seed filling her. The satiated and exhausted groan he lets go of makes her chuckle and then his lips are back on hers and he kisses her lips lazily, the kiss as messy as them.  

Slowly, he lifts her up and slips out of her, two groans echoing the loss of contact. He leans back down onto the mattress, settling Felicity comfortably against his shoulder in what he knows is her favourite place to fall asleep. He strokes her hair lovingly before kissing the top of her head.

“Felicity…” he starts, the regret of not seeing her share his climax audible in his voice. She stops him with a finger on his lips, preventing him to add another word. She looks up at him, the pleasure and emotion of this unique moment written all over her.

“I love you,” she states simply, emotional but strong. “I love you so much, Oliver.”

As he captures her lips in one more kiss, he sends a prayer to the universe, thanking it for sending her to him, to give him purpose, to make him whole. As she leans back into his shoulder and wraps an arm around his chest, he feels complete again, serene and happy, mirroring Felicity’s very emotions.

He will not stop searching a way for her to walk again.

He will not stop.

For her.  


End file.
